


Nothing is Forever

by wayward_winter_soldier



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cisco Ramon Needs A Hug, Cisco Ramon Whump, Feminization, Forced Feminization, Gen, I am sorry in advance, Kidnapping, Misgendering, Psychological Torture, Starvation, Suicide Attempt, This is Fucked Up IMO, Trans Character, Trans Cisco Ramon, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29036898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_winter_soldier/pseuds/wayward_winter_soldier
Summary: DeVoe knows everything. Except that seems to change when he kidnaps Vibe.
Kudos: 10





	Nothing is Forever

> "This place is always such a mess  
> Sometimes I think I'd like to watch it burn  
> I'm so alone  
> Feel just like somebody else  
> Man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same  
> But somewhere here in between the city walls of dying dreams  
> I think her death, it must be killing me"

_\- One Headlight, The Wallflowers_

* * *

"Fuck!"

Cisco Ramon cradled his wounded hand in his uninjured one, wincing at the pain and small droplet of blood that poured from the new cut. Damn those sharp, little screws that needed even shaper and littler screwdrivers to penetrate them. Dropping his hurt hand he used the good one to fish out a Band-Aid from the stash he kept in his desk for incidents, not unlike this one. He skillfully unpeeled the C3PO Band-Aid and applied it to his wound. Tossing the trash away, he examined his handiwork, not very eager to get back into his project since it had attempted to maim him. 

"You suck," he said to the tech before standing, unconsciously repositioning his binder like he always seemed to do when he stood. It was so annoying but it was also a force of habit. And besides, he was getting top surgery in less than a month. Then he would never have to deal with wrestling a binder on while still wet from a shower. Now that was annoying. He grabbed at the front of his T-shirt and pulled it out to give his chest a more baggy look. Not that anyone was going to judge him. Everyone at S.T.A.R. Labs knew. Even Ralph. Cisco had expected him to be an asshole about it, but he was actually rather cool about the whole thing. 

Cisco brushed a piece of hair behind his ear as he leaned in, trying to focus back on his work. At that exact moment, the alarms in the lab decided it would be the perfect moment to go off.

Cursing once more, Cisco threw down his screwdriver and quickly began putting his Vibe uniform on, knowing Barry was pulling overtime at CCPD and that he was the Meta on deck. He's been going out into the field a lot more often, which was nice. He liked being able to help people not just behind the scenes but front and center too. Not like he needed an ego boost from the media or any Central City citizens, but it was always nice to be appreciated. He slipped his feet into his sneakers and pulled up the suspenders on his leather pants. Jacket next, then gauntlets and goggles. He hurried into the Cortex where Caitlin Snow was sitting, her fingers dancing over the keys on the computers.

"There's been some sort of attack. Ninety-sixth and Seventh Street."

"Got it," Cisco said, nodding to Caitlin before opening a Breach and stepping in. It was like walking through a doorway. He was on the other side in seconds and the sight wasn't a pretty one. There was fire. Shit. That's just what he needed.

"Cait, we got fire," he spoke into his comm.

"Dispatch has fire trucks on the way."

He nodded despite knowing Caitlin couldn't see him. He walked closer, looking for what could have caused the fire. A Meta? Just plain natural causes? There weren't even any civilians. It was like someone had just lit up an abandoned building for the hell of it. Now, this was confusing.

"Vibe. So nice of you to make it."

Cisco felt his blood run cold. He turned, knowing exactly who he would see.

Fucking DeVoe. He should have known.

"Of course it's you," Cisco bit, staring at the man in his weird hover-chair. "It has your stink all over it."

"Guilty as charged. I'm afraid it was all a distraction."

"A distraction for who?" Cisco challenged, not taking his eyes off the man.

"You. See, I know you've been using your abilities to see what my next move will be and I can't have that, no, no, no."

"So what," Cisco dared, taking a small step back. "You're gonna kill me?"

"No," DeVoe said, a sort of sad smile on his face. "Not at all."

Cisco suddenly felt a sharp stab in his neck. He instinctively reached up as he turned his head. The fucking wife. Damn it, he should have known! Why was he so off his game today? This is why Barry shouldn't work overtime. 

The last thing he heard was Caitlin's voice in his ears as he fell, his vision blacking out.

* * *

When Cisco woke up he had a piercing headache. He groaned, blinking weakly at the bright lights that shined above him. G-d, where the hell was he? He sat up, taking inventory of his current situation. His shoes were gone, but his socks remained. His Vibe jacket, goggles, and gauntlets were also missing. Great. So much for a secret identity. He seemed to be in some sort of glass box, which was highly annoying. He tried to open a Breach but nothing happened. Damn it. Dampeners, he bet. 

The room his little glass box was in looked like something off a science fiction show. In any other circumstance, it would have impressed the hell out of him. Now he was just scared for his life.

He heard a door open and looked over, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. G-d, this was it. They were going to kill him. Bye-bye, Vibe. Cisco watched as DeVoe's chair floated over towards him, the man's wife following suit.

"Hello, Mr. Ramon."

Cisco only glared in response. This was just perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect, fucking perfect!

"You will be of no threat here," DeVoe continued, his chair still moving around Cisco's prison. "Well... no threat to me."

"I was a threat then?" Cisco asked smugly, still glaring at the doctor.

"Not necessarily a threat... more of an annoyance."

Cisco scoffed, shaking his head. He leaned his head against the glass wall, pulling at his shirt like he did when he felt anxious. How long had he been wearing his binder? Too fucking long. It was beginning to hurt. 

"What are you doing?" DeVoe asked, obviously noticing Cisco's fidgeting. 

"None of your business," Cisco barked back, letting his hands fall to his side.

"You're uncomfortable."

Cisco laughed out loud at that statement. Of course he was uncomfortable! He was in a tiny glass box, like an animal at a zoo! 

"I can get you a change of clothes."

"How about you get me out of your little display case, hmm? Let's start there."

Cisco hadn't expected DeVoe to agree, but the man nodded and a doorway appeared. Cisco looked at it warily but stood anyway, walking through and into the main room.

"Your powers won't work. So don't even try," Marlize stated, her emotions guarded. "Take your shirt off."

"What? No!" Cisco exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his torso.

"If the shirt is bothering you, remove it," Marlize said, walking closer to Cisco.

"It's... no, it's not necessarily the shirt, more so what's under it."

The DeVoes looked at him quizzically and he felt his face heat up in embarrassment. This was not how he expected his day to go. The last thing he wanted to do was tell the people who had kidnapped him his biggest secret. Well, _one_ of his biggest secrets. They already knew the other one, though. He was lost in thought, trying to think of a plan. He hadn't noticed Marlize coming closer to him and rapidly pulling his shirt up.

He jumped back but Marlize held on. His T-shirt ripped slightly in the front. Good thing it was only one of his plain black uniform ones. If it had been a good graphic one he would have been angrier.

"What is that?" DeVoe questioned, his eyes on the black fabric of his binder.

"That's... it's... a binder."

"What is that?" Marlize demanded, pulling on the T-shirt, letting it rip all the way, and leaving Cisco in just his pants and binder.

"It's a thing that flattens your chest."

DeVoe seemed to be processing the situation. "So you're a woman."

"What? No! I'm still a man! I'm just... transgender."

"You've lied about your sex," DeVoe said as if he hadn't even heard Cisco.

"No, I didn't! I was just born in a female body but I'm really male."

"That is impossible!" DeVoe argued, his face in disgust. "Marlize, get her some proper clothes."

"I am not a 'her,' okay? I'm a guy, you bigot! Now, let me go! You know Flash will be looking for me. You can't keep me forever!"

"Perhaps this is no longer about preventing you from relaying your Vibes about me to your friends. Perhaps now we have to instill in you proper social etiquette."

Cisco did not like the sound of that.

"No. Fuck off, transphobe! Get away from me."

He could see what Marlize had pulled out of her lab coat and he had no intention of letting her drug him a second time. He backed up, his hands up though he knew he wouldn't be able to shoot any sonic blasts. This was the worst thing that could have happened. No, this was worse than worse. This was nightmare fuel.

"It'll be easier if you comply," Marlize informed him. She grabbed his wrist and he struggled, but she was stronger than she looked. With one last look of what Cisco could only describe as pity, she plunged the needle into Cisco's bare shoulder.

* * *

"Barry, Cisco's been taken! I think it was DeVoe!"

Barry Allen froze, his phone still next to his ear. Lightning flashed in his eyes.

"I'm on my way."

* * *

Cisco blinked his eyes open. He was really sick and tired of waking up in places that weren't his bed, he thought bitterly as he sat up, groaning at the pain that still ran through his head.

He was in a bedroom now. Well, sort of. It was more prison-like than he cared to note. There was a toilet and sink in the corner, a mirror hung on the wall. He laid on a bed with simple sheets and blankets. There were no windows. The only light came from a naked lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. There was a single door made of metal and Cisco didn't even have to try the handle to know it was locked. He just knew he wasn't that lucky.

As for his clothes... those were a bit of an issue. They had taken his socks, which pissed him off way more than it probably should have. His binder was gone. And he was wearing a nightgown. Well, he could consider it a nightshirt, perhaps. It wasn't overly lacy or feminine, which he had a feeling wouldn't last if DeVoe got his way. How anyone as brilliant as him could have such backward views he'd never know. Didn't he know there was scientific research to back up transgender people? 

Cisco looked up at the sound of the door being unlocked. He moved himself further back on the bed, not wanting to deal with either of the DeVoes. The door opened and Marlize stood in the entryway, her arms full of folded clothing. She had that same sad look on her face as she walked in, closing the door behind her.

"Clifford wants you to put these on for dinner."

"I'm not gonna do that," Cisco replied, staring at the clothes warily. "Because I bet there're no pants in that stack of clothes you're holding."

Marlize nodded, her face still filled with sorrow. "I'm sorry, Francesca-"

"Do _not_ call me that. That's not my name," Cisco said, his eyes darkening at the sound of his dead name. 

"That is your name. We found your original birth certificate-"

"No, that was never my name. My name is Francisco."

Marlize was silent for a minute as she stood awkwardly, obviously not knowing what to say.

"Why are you doing this?"

"What?"

"Why are you doing this? What are you getting out of this? Torturing me. Performing this weird-ass conversion therapy. Why can't you people just..."

Cisco trailed off, not knowing exactly what he actually wanted to say. There was no point trying to change the minds of bigots. That he had learned a long time ago.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"No you're not," Cisco answered. 

Marlize said nothing in return, only set the clothing on the bed. "He'll hurt you if you don't comply. Maybe if you play along, your friends will find you before he harms you."

"Why do you care?" Cisco spat, staring at the clothes like they were a firey demon from hell.

"I don't," she said in a higher voice. Obviously lying.

Cisco ignored it, standing from the bed and touching the clothing carefully as if they would burn him.

"I can help..."

Cisco looked at Marlize warily. She sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Just like Cisco did when he was nervous.

"He told me to help. To make sure you looked proper."

Cisco said nothing. Again, he really didn't know what to say. This whole situation was so odd. He only hoped his friends would find him. And fast.

* * *

Clifford DeVoe looked up from where he was seated at the head of the large oak dining table, a condescending smile on his lips. Marlize has outdone herself, he thought as he watched the two figures walk towards him.

Cisco felt miserable and he bet he looked just as terrible. He could feel tears welling up at the corners of his eyes, but he refused to cry. He bet that that's what this sick fuck wanted.

He twirled a hand anxiously around a strand of curled hair, his legs trembling in the stockings that Marlize had basically had to force on him. He wished he had his binder, even if it did hurt his chest after prolonged periods of use. Anything was better than the lacy bra he wore under the high-collared blue dress that seemed to just know where all his hated curves were. It went a little past his knees, not enough to cover up the black pair of thick-heeled shoes he wore. He wanted to go home.

"Please, sit," DeVoe invited, his eyes taking in Cisco's appearance. "Now you look like a proper young lady."

Cisco sneered at the sentence but sat anyway, his heart racing and his face a bright shade of red from embarrassment. Maybe it was best if Barry didn't come. He couldn't stand him seeing him like this. He looked down at his plate, Compared to the other two, there wasn't a lot of food. A small piece of chicken, no potatoes, and five strands of green beans.

"You need to lose weight. No man will ever love you looking like that," DeVoe said when Cisco gave him a confused look.

Un-fucking-believable. 

Cisco pushed the plate away. He wasn't hungry anyway. He ignored the smile on DeVoe's face as he wrapped his arms around his stomach and tried not to cry.

* * *

Barry sighed, running his hand through his hair. He had no idea where Cisco was. He was sure it was DeVoe, but he had looked everywhere.

Where was he?

* * *

The routine DeVoe had Cisco fall into was brutal and he hated every minute of it. Every morning he woke up to Marlize knocking at the door of his cell, fresh clothes in her arms. She was always there to assist, no matter how many times Cisco told her he could manage. He swore every day the clothes got more and more feminine. Always a dress or skirt. That never changes. 

Then it was breakfast time, which for Cisco was always a cup of black coffee. Being one who usually liked a bit of sugar and cream in his coffee, it was brutal at first. How could anyone drink anything so bitter? Plus he had to sit there and watch as the DeVoes ate whatever Marlize had made for breakfast, which always smelt and looked delicious. 

Next came Cisco's "lessons." DeVoe was certain he had never been taught to be a "proper lady" which was why he was "confused" now. So Cisco was subjected to lessons that made him feel like Mia in The Princess Diaries. Books balancing on his head, how to properly set a table for a fancy dinner, sewing, cooking, cleaning, everything a proper lady needed to know according to DeVoe. Marlize was always there as an example, a solemn look on her face as she demonstrated how to best peel potatoes or which fork went where.

There would be no lunch break for Cisco. While the DeVoes ate, he was meant to sit in the library (which was where most of his lessons were hosted) and read whatever book DeVoe had commanded him to read that day. Poetry. Jane Austin. An etiquette book from the 1950s. He seemed to have it all.

Soon, it would be dinner and he would be fed a quarter of the portions the DeVoes ate. He was losing weight. He could tell.

After dinner, Cisco was meant to read a bit more before it was time for his bath, which Marlize also assisted at despite him telling her a million times he didn't want her to see him naked. The whole ordeal was so embarrassing that Cisco sometimes couldn't stand it. He cried into his pillow at bedtime, his long hair hanging around his face, dried thanks to the hairdryer Marlize took to it, his nightgown bunches around his much too defined hips.

Barry, where are you? He asked every night as tears poured from his eyes. Begged that he would come speeding in to save him. Prayed that perhaps the Meta dampeners would fail and Cisco would be able to Breach out. To hear someone call him by his real name again. To wear pants and eat more than one meal a day. To tinker with his machines instead of learning how to boil water. 

He wasn't that lucky anyway. He never was.

* * *

It had been two weeks since Cisco had been kidnapped and he could feel himself breaking.

Barry wasn't coming. It was as simple as that. He was destined to spend the rest of his life in this terrible place. He would have to find his own way out, it seemed. 

So when he was setting the table for lunch, as he was always forced to do despite not being able to eat any of the actual lunch, he snuck a steak knife into the pocket of his apron, his heart rushing at just the thought.

And when it was time for bed, he hung his apron on the hook it usually resided on when he slept. And when Marlize left, locking the cell door behind her, he stood from his bed and walked quietly across the room to the apron. He took the knife out, examining it.

He couldn't do this anymore. He was at the end of his rope.

So he took the blade in his right hand and harshly slashed at his wrists, then did the same to the right one.

Then he sat down on the ground, laying his head against the mattress of the bed and letting his vision darken.

If only there wasn't a hidden camera in the cell. Because then, he might have gotten away with it.

* * *

Cisco woke up the next morning and he really wished he hadn't. 

One look at his bandaged wrists told him everything and he cursed under his breath. Just his dumb, stupid luck.

"Francesca, what were you thinking?" DeVoe asked from where he hovered over Cisco's bedside.

"I was thinking that I was done. Done with you, done with your torture, done with this life. Let me go. Now."

DeVoe shook his head in a sad way that Cisco knew was bullshit. "I can't do that. But this little outburst of yours cannot go unpunished, you know that don't you, Francesca?"

"That's not my fucking name."

There was a harsh slap to Cisco's face. He winced in pain.

"You know you are not permitted to swear. It is unbecoming."

"I don't give a rat's ass."

Another slap. Yeah, he had expected that one.

"And here I thought you were making such progress. You disappoint me."

"Get in line," Cisco remarked.

DeVoe tutted, a sad look on his face that Cisco knew was fake. "I guess you really will need to be punished."

Cisco said nothing, only continued to stare up at the ceiling long after DeVoe had left, his stomach twisting at the thought of what DeVoe would consider a punishment. 

* * *

DeVoe's punishment came the next day after Marlize had decided Cisco had recovered enough. He was sure she was forced to say that. The more time he spent in this demented place, the more he thought that perhaps he was not its only prisoner. 

Cisco was led to the library, his heart beating loudly against his chest. DeVoe was waiting, a stern look on his face. Cisco felt as if he had been called down to the principal's office or something. Cisco heard the door be closed by Marlize and he felt even more afraid. He was alone with DeVoe. That was the last thing he wanted. 

"Why did you try to kill yourself?" DeVoe asked.

Cisco shifted his weight on his feet, cursing the heels he wore. "Because I hate you and everything you've done to me. And I can't live like this anymore."

DeVoe looked like he was thinking over Cisco's answer before replying. "I have done nothing but help you."

Cisco scoffed. "This is torture. I am not a woman. I'm a man. My name is Francisco Ramon and I am a man. You're just too close-minded to realize that. You say you're so smart, but apparently, you aren't!"

DeVoe said nothing, only raised an eyebrow at Cisco's outburst. "You think this is torture?"

Cisco gulped at the seriousness of DeVoe's voice. "I'll show you torture."

* * *

"I think I found the place!" Caitlin declared, pointing to the computer screen.

Barry wasted no time in putting his Flash uniform on.

"Go get him!" Caitlin yelled at the blur of lightning that passed by her.

* * *

Cisco cried at the way his injured wrists rubbed against the metal shackles that kept his wrists together. His ankles were in the same predicament. 

He sat on the stone floor of what Cisco could only call a dungeon. Shackles and chains on the walls, stone everything, a door that resembled one you might see in a medieval prison. Who just has this in their house?

Cisco shifted, his face red at the feeling of the lacy underwear giving him a slight wedgie. This was the worst, sitting in a dungeon, like some princess in a storybook. Cisco was no princess. He may have looked like one presently, but he wasn't one.

His long hair was out of the usual bun DeVoe kept it in for everyday practicality. It framed his face and fell around his shoulders. His bare feet were getting cold, even with the long dress covering them. The dress was the worst part anyway. It was pink and was more of a ball gown than anything else. He was wearing a corset under it, which was harder to breathe in than a binder it seemed. It made him look curvier, which he hated. He had lost a lot of weight since being taken by DeVoe. He didn't know the exact number, but when he looked in the bathroom mirror he could tell. There was makeup on his face and he felt like a painted doll.

He pulled on the iron shackles once more, only irritating his cuts in the process. This was his punishment. Not the worse that could have happened, he supposed. He wasn't being beaten. Just starved and forced into a dress, he thought bitterly.

Cisco closed his eyes tightly as if that alone would will him out of DeVoe's creepy dungeon. He wanted to go home. More than anything. 

There was something going on outside, Cisco thought. There was a lot of banging. Smashing. What was happening? He looked expectantly at the door, waiting for something to come flying through.

That something was Barry Allen.

"Cisco!" Barry cried, rushing towards his friend.

Cisco knew there were tears of relief pouring down his face but he didn't care. He only watched as Barry phased him through the cuffs. The dampeners were off, then, he thought as he tackled Barry in a hug.

"Get me out of here and out of this dress, please," Cisco begged into his friend's shoulder, letting Barry help him stand, his legs shaky.

Barry nodded, trying his best to hide the disgust he had for DeVoe after seeing his best friend. How could someone do something so horrible? 

"Don't... don't tell anyone about this... please, just..."

Barry nodded, a small smile on his face. "I'll go find you some clothes. Okay?"

Cisco nodded, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. "And makeup wipes."

Barry nodded and was off, returning in about five seconds with a stack of acceptable clothing and makeup wipes. On top of the stack was Cisco's binder and he could have kissed Barry for that. The speedster unzipped the back of the dress, cringing at the corset and quickly loosening it so Cisco could slip out of it. He immediately noticed how much skinner his friend was and he was filled with even more rage. Barry turned, letting Cisco dress, his mind thinking over all the terrible things he would do to DeVoe because of this.

Cisco cleared his throat and Barry turned, giving the shorter man a smile at the T-Shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes he wore. He looked much more comfortable, Barry thought as Cisco washed his face off with the makeup wipes.

"Let's get the hell out of here," Cisco said after deciding he had removed as much makeup as he possibly could with the wipes.

Barry nodded, taking his friend's hand. "Let's go, Cisco."

Cisco's heart fluttered at finally hearing his real name spoken out loud after so long.


End file.
